Subterfuge
by Caedi.Tarian
Summary: Netherlands is just trying to enjoy a quiet drink and the girls at his favorite pub. The World Cup is in full swing, however, and Denmark has quite different plans for their afternoon while their teams clash on the field.


**Subterfuge  
****Main Pairing**: None, but implied one sided Netherlands x multiple random women  
**Rating:** T, _just in case_ kids don't know anything about pedophiles, various creepy people that hang around bars, unnamed booze, or the word "boob". Surprisingly, Netherlands' pipe/joint doesn't make an appearance.  
**Info**: Just a silly one shot started in anticipation of the Denmark vs Netherlands game and tweaked/ finished after said game. Spawned from an actual conversation con mis amigos.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Netherlands or Denmark, and the background characters aren't worth bothering to own 'cause they are just plot fodder.

::...::

Ruben's was a small pub, crammed between a pair of vacant, dilapidated office buildings and accessed only by taking several less than savory back streets from the city thoroughfare. Still, it never had more than a few visitors at a time from what Netherlands had experienced, and that was what made it the best pub in town. It was wonderfully peaceful and quiet, cozy and… Well, apparently abnormally cramped today.

"What is this?" the nation asked the nearest bartender, the young and quite attractive one Netherlands had been silently fawning over for months, though he had to practically yell over the ridiculous din.

The young woman gave a tentative motion to the ancient television above the main bar but quickly disappeared into the sea of people that had overtaken Ruben's.

It made no sense. Netherlands had arrived at precisely the same time as always, wanting and expecting nothing more than a quiet drink and a decent screen on which to watch his country's football team completely crush their Danish rivals. It had been nice and normal for all of ten minutes before this horrible mob had burst in, raucous and entirely too happy. Then, before he could bother asking himself if the situation could get any worse, they had all swarmed to the bar –_his_ bar- to bicker over the seats closest to the television.

So, here he sat, practically sandwiched between two burly brutes who had to shout over his glass to even attempt to hear each other speak. _Wait a moment. Are they speaking… Danish? What are they doing here of all places right now? _Netherlands quickly downed the remaining contents of his glass before all but slamming it back onto the bar. It suddenly made sense. It was years ago, but once he had brought Denmark here when the obnoxious nation had, for some reason, decided to plague Netherlands with his overbearing presence whenever possible. Upon seeing the place, Denmark had immediately forgotten about his quest to annoy the hell out of him, leaving Netherlands the perfect opportunity to ditch the idiot. _But he wasn't paying any attention to where we were going when I brought him here, and he had to be drunk as hell to actually want to leave. How did he find this place again?_ Because, really, it made no sense for a whole crowd of Danes to flock to this no name pub in the middle of the Netherlands unless that moron had decided to bring them for some idiotic reason.

"Dav, Holland!"

He made no attempt to turn around to acknowledge the familiar voice, but bit back a growl when a hand pounded heavily on his shoulder blade. One day, he was going to kill that fool.

The man to Netherland's left suddenly slipped off his stool, allowing a smiling Denmark to take his place, much to Netherlands' horror. "I knew you'd be here, Holland! You know, drinking all by your lonesome and creeping on the ladies as usual. Since that's just lame and weird, I decided to bring a whole of bunch of people to come watch the game with us! See? I got people from both sides and-"

"You are an annoyance," Netherlands said flatly. Watch the game "with us" was what that oaf had said. What was worse here? That Denmark was attempting to ruin his favorite pub or that it was apparently already implied that they were supposed to watch the game together? "You're even worse when watching your team getting their asses kicked, so why would I want you hanging around?" Not to mention that adorable bartender girl had still not reappeared from the Danish swarm…

Denmark sat up a bit straighter at the mention of his team, that moronic grin morphing into something a bit smugger. "They're pretty good this year, you know. You shouldn't be so sure that your Oranje will beat them so easily."

"Ha. Oranje can beat them three to nil without a problem. Just you watch."

"I bet they can't!" Denmark paused for a second in thought before grabbing his hat and tossing it onto the bar. "Right, fine, since you're so confident, let's make this official, okay? The Danes win, and you have to buy everyone in here, Dane or Dutch, a drink!" He must have caught onto Netherlands' unimpressed stare, because he then laughed. "Wait, wait! Oranje wins and I'll beat up that guy over there who's been giving you the rape face! Then I'll buy everyone drinks, too."

::...::

He was going to have to amend that earlier statement that Denmark was worse when his team was losing. Even at halftime, with no goals for either team, the blond had already gone through at least half a dozen drinks and was now singing severely off key with the other Danes. The idiot also happened to be singing quite_ loudly_, Netherlands had to note, a bit too loudly considering he was less than a foot away.

"I didn't realize you had so many foreign friends."

Netherlands looked up in surprise to see the bartender beauty standing cheerfully in her rightful place, which was, of course, right on the other side of the bar from him. He managed a faint smile before he realized who she was talking about. "Oh. We're not friends." Denmark suddenly flung an arm around the brunette's neck, trying to get him to join in their singing and Netherlands gave the bar tender an exasperated glance. "It's more like unfortunate acquaintances."

The young lady giggled, or at least it looked like she did but the sound was lost in the singing, and then quickly left to tend to a nearby customer.

She obviously could not be too young, but her face was still quite girlish. Her blond hair was even tied back in pigtails, which flounced about on her shoulders as she walked. It was just an added bonus of frequenting this cozy little pub.

"Holland, hey, you." Denmark promptly cuffed the other nation on the ear once he realized Netherlands was ignoring him in favor of one of the bartenders. "She's pretty cute, isn't she? Any chance you can introduce me?"

It was a wonder Denmark could even see straight let alone talk when he was bent on drinking an amount of alcohol that would poison the average man. Still, his senses of decency and self preservation were as dim as ever. Immediately Netherlands shoved Denmark's arm from his shoulders and glared at him furiously. "No chance. You stay away."

Denmark rolled his eyes at this. "Oh, no, did she call the police on you like all those others? Damn, Holland, you're such a pedo."

"What? She did not call the police, and she isn't underage, either." This he knew for a fact, though it had been hard over the past few months trying to get any information out of her when he could not reveal anything about himself.

"Huh! Who would have thought that Holland would have eyes for a woman who actually has a chest. You know, rape face man has a chest, though it is obviously just muscle, not boo-"

"Stop talking." Netherlands snapped, cautiously glancing over his shoulder to afore mentioned human. Indeed, he still seemed to be watching them. What was Denmark's problem, bringing shady characters like that with him to a pub? "Might as well go and introduce yourself to him since you will have to beat his ass later."

The blond bartender suddenly reappeared, and Netherlands did not even bother to catch Denmark's following comment.

::...::

There was almost a brawl after the Dane team's own goal **(1)**, with the Dutch in the bar cheering and howling with laughter while the Danes grew increasingly more agitated. Still, no true violence ever erupted, much to Netherlands' increasing pleasure. It was true, the Danish team was not bad at all, but he was never going to admit it.

Then the whistle blew and the game was over.

"Two nil, I win," Netherlands shouted over the cheer of elation that exploded from the Dutch scattered about the pub.

Denmark was attempting to frown, but somehow he still managed to smile. "All right. You know, you have to say, though, my Danes fought a good fight!" He seemed to understand that Netherlands was obviously not going to give a proper or polite response to that, so he got to his feet with a sigh. "Right-o, watch this."

Despite all the dancing and arm waving, Denmark seemed to get through the throng fairly well. When the blond glanced back to Netherlands to make sure he was watching, Netherlands quickly snatched his glass and watched over the rim with a feigned disinterest. On one hand, it would not do for Denmark to actually think he cared about anything the moron was doing. However, more importantly, that certain bartender seemed to be watching him, and it was crucial to hold his air of austerity and dignity to keep her interested.

From the bar, the man had looked much shorter, but, as Denmark approached him, he could tell that the guy was about Netherlands' height and quite a bit more muscular. Any sane man would probably begin having doubts at this point. It was either a very good thing or a very bad thing that Denmark was not like the average man and, even then, possibly not quite completely sane even compared to the average personified nation's standards.

The man turned upon feeling Denmark's forceful clap to his large arm. "Yes?"

Denmark gave a winning smile and a small shrug. Then, he clocked the guy one straight to the jaw.

_If he weren't technically immortal, I think he would likely be in danger of dying_. Netherlands grimaced as he watched the burly man, who had staggered but quickly recovered from the initial blow, aim a kick at Denmark's ankles and easily knock the nation to the floor. Now he was probably beating Denmark senseless, though the sudden crowd of people who were both trying to stop the fight and watch it then blocked Netherlands' view.

"Oh, do you think he'll be all right?" A small hand reached from over the bar to grab Netherland's wrist. "Why did he do that all of a sudden?"

"What?" For a moment Netherlands stared at the bartender, having completely forgotten about Denmark and the fight. Oh, right. That. "He has his reasons, and, trust me, he'll be all right. He's like a roach. Never can get rid of him. Come on, let's go see what all he's done now." With a smug satisfaction, Netherlands noted that, as soon the bartender reached his side of the bar, she quickly latched onto his wrist again.

He was able to easily shunt the observers aside and stopped only when he could plainly see that Denmark had pinned the human to the ground, locking the man's arms behind his back. The other nation looked up then, his smile as wide as ever. He certainly looked the worse for wear, though, with a bleeding lip and several marks on his faces that would probably soon develop into very impressive bruises. It had been a long time since he had looked that weary, as well. "I do good, Nederland?" he said faintly.

Surprised, Netherlands merely stared at him a moment before quickly shaking his head. "Er, yes. You, uh, 'do good', Danmark."

Denmark's smiled turned sly then, and he returned his attention back to his defeated adversary. "All right, you, say it! Tell everyone that you were eyeing that poor girl like a dog watches meat!"

At this Netherlands stiffened, a scowl quickly masking his previous expression, which was not content with a vague sense of brotherly fondness _at all_. Yes, Denmark was definitely going to die tonight. Maybe a buff human could not kill him, but another nation would have no problem. "What? _Girl_?"

The human gave a strangled whimper. "I- I'm sorry, I won't touch or look at the server girl again! I swear!"

The bartender gasped, her grip on Netherlands' wrist tightening. "Did he… Did he do that because he saw that man getting rough with me earlier? Really? Oh, thank you, no one has ever done something like that for me!"

Wait. What? Netherlands hardly registered the pressure at his wrist suddenly disappearing or the quick getaway of the lecherous customer. He did, however, notice that Denmark still had a mischievous twist to his smile as he stood to give the bartender a hug. Then Denmark winked over the girl's shoulder.

_That… That bastard! So, he lied when he said that man was looking at me… He was looking at the girl the whole time!_ And Denmark was enjoying the girl's attentions entirely too much. No matter how Netherlands tried to explain what had just happened, he came back to the same conclusion every time: somehow, in some way, he had been cheated, tricked.

No, that wasn't it. Netherlands glared as the girl gave her supposed savior a chaste, swift kiss. _He wanted to make sure he did not lose. If he won the game, then that would have been his victory. However, his team lost the match, so he made up for it by taking her!_ Since when did Denmark have the capacity to think of a scheme like that? Maybe he didn't. Maybe it was all just some horrible, terrible coincidence.

"Those Danes fought a good fight, eh?" Denmark called, echoing his words from the moments after the football game had ended. Upon receiving no coherent answer from the gaping Netherlands, the Dane smirked triumphantly. _Ha! Let the bastard stew in that for a while! He'll know better not to underestimate the Danes next time!_ For now, there was someone else much more interesting to attend to, a certain blond bartender. "So, Miss, mind if I buy you a drink?"

**FIN**

::...::

**AN:**

**(1)** In case there are people who don't know anything about football/soccer, an "own goal" is when a person gets the ball into their own goal and therefore gives a point to the opposing team. This is bad for the team who got the own goal, but pretty awesome for the other team.

That bet that the Netherlands would win 3-0? Yeah, I really did bet money on that 'cause my friend is an ass and doesn't understand how awesome Oranje can be. Still lost my money, though, since Poulsen did an awesome block against what could have been that elusive third Dutch goal!

Denmark purposefully says Netherland's Dutch name there near the end, the same with Netherlands using Denmark's Danish name. Those two lines came up in a real conversation I had with a few friends, though it was in a context having to do with flags and football and everything but Hetalia. I adore both of these characters (and their countries!), and it was so much fun getting to write them in a story together.

I've noticed that I can't possibly write Denmark without giving him the tick of saying "you know" every few sentences. Perdóname! D:


End file.
